Reconciliation
by BenAddict Holmes
Summary: When Sherlock left London, John and his identity behind, so did Molly. But destiny can be cruel at times, throwing things from your past at you when you'd rather make a fresh start. Eventual Sherlolly, Post Reichenbach. Please read and review!
1. After the fall

**Author's note : Hello friends! Finally, an idea for a new story struck me and here's the first chapter. I hope you like it as much as Bottled up inside. A big thank you to all of you who reviewed and added my previous fic to your alerts and favourites. I can only hope that you stand by me this time too. **

**One thing that I must mention is that this is loosely based on a movie I saw called Khamoshi (meaning Silence). It's just a beautiful story, waiting to be told.**

**Disclaimer : Sir Acd, Mofftiss and Asit Sen ( the writer of Khamoshi) are the true owners of everything. I am just a humble admirer of their great work.**

She still remembered him standing in her office, asking for her help. His eyes were filled with tears, something she had never seen before.

Indeed, he looked more human than ever. It was as if something inside him had broken, revealing him to be just like others. Vulnerable and visibly disturbed at the prospect of such a premature and disgraceful death. She had marvelled at his plan, wondering how on earth such brilliant things struck his mind. What he had planned took care of everything and everyone and had no loopholes, at least none showed themselves to her. Her heart had thundered in her ribcage when he had finally gone up to the rooftop of St. Bart's to confront his nemesis and eventually jump to his supposed death as he had rightly forseen.

Everything she would need to resuscitate him was ready. Her heart stopped when she saw his coat billowing as he fell, as graceful as shut her eyes, unable to watch him lying on the ground, even though his fall had been broken by the huge truck carrying the hospital's laundry. Soon enough, he was wheeled into the morgue, declared dead due to the clearly absent pulse.

She shut the doors of the morgue and walked towards the body slab on which the newly deceased world's only consulting detective was currently sitting.

What took her by surprise, however, was that he was shaking. He attempted to stop when she approached him but she simply put her arms around him which led him to break down completely. He sobbed in her arms for what seemed like hours and she simply held him close, her small hands rubbing soothing circles on his back.

He managed to choke out some incorrigible words in between sobs and she could make out a few words like John, , Lestrade and Mycroft. Tears had welled up in her eyes too and they flowed freely down her cheeks. It was just heart-breaking to see Sherlock, the man of iron will, the cleverest man she had ever known and who had always seemed to be made of stone, break down thus in front of her.

Eventually he calmed down. He gulped down the glass of water she offered him and spoke in his usual manner, brisk and nonchalant.

'Everything went well, I suppose. John is certain that I am no more and hence Mrs. Hudson, Lestrade and the Yard will surely know that too. Mycroft knows about the plan because I'll be needing his help to bring down Moriarty's network. Moriarty is surely dead as he shot himself through the head. He couldn't possibly survive that. Only one problem remains. That's you' he concluded, looking at her in a way like never before.

'I beg your pardon? Me?' she said loudly. Too loudly. Anger was starting to rise within her. If he couldn't be grateful even after she had saved his life...

'Don't get me wrong, Molly. Moriarty's men are sure to come after you when they realise that I'm alive. You are not really safe here anymore' he muttered, more to himself than to her.

'What should I do then?' she asked, worried now. She hadn't thought of this at all. Sherlock was still contemplating, his eyes closed and his palms joined, resting on his chin, as if in prayer. Suddenly, his eyes opened and he gazed at her intensely.

'When I asked you to help me, I hadn't really anticipated this. If I had I probably wouldn't have dragged you into this. And now you're another possible target-'

'Sherlock, even if you had told me, I doubt I'd have refrained from helping you. How could I? You needed my help. As far as my sefety is concerned, I think I'll be able to manage-' she said but he cut her off.

'Molly, you have no idea how dangerous these people are. Moriarty used you to get to me when you were merely infatuated. Imagine what they would do to you if they found out you're the reason their leader is dead and I'm alive. No. You must leave London' he said dismissively.

'What about my job? My friends?' she argued but one look from him silenced her. It was obvious that the things she had just mentioned were very insignificant as compared to the things that mattered.

'I'll have a talk with Mycroft. He'll provide you with the necessary documents. It'd be best if you leave the country altogether. By tomorrow evening, there'll be no records that anyone called Molly Hooper ever existed. He'll give you a new identity and a new place to start your life afresh, as someone else. You-'

'Stop it Sherlock! You can't do this! Just because there's a slight possibility that someone may come and attack me, doesn't mean that you can take away my existence from me!' she exclaimed angrily.

He said nothing but advanced towards her. He grabbed her shoulders and shook her hard, looking absolutely livid.

'Don't you understand? They will torture and kill you to get information about me. I've endangered too many lives Molly, just by being close to people. I always say that alone is what protects me but alone is what,in fact, protects them' he said to her very quietly.

'Does that mean that I am to change my name forever? Live as another person from now on? Forget 31 years of my life as Molly Hooper?' she asked defiantly.

'No Molly. Though that would make things a lot easier, I really can't ask for that much from you. I can only promise you that your identity and job will both be restored as soon as I return to London and resume my old life in a few years after having taken down Moriarty's huge network that is thankfully restricted to Europe' he said.

'I'll do it' she said quietly. After all this was Sherlock. If there was anyone she could trust to keep their promise, it was him. What did a couple of years matter, if Moriarty's network was going to be taken down in return? Sherlock was working for the greater good. If she was destined to be a pawn in this great game, so be it.

'Thank you Molly. You wouldn't believe how grateful I am' saying so, he suddenly pulled her into a bear hug. She was too surprised to hug him back and even more so when she heard the words he whispered in her ear.

'I've already lost John, and Lestrade. I don't want to lose you too, Molly' saying so, he untied his trademark blue scarf and draped it around her shoulders. 'A souvenir' was the only explanation he gave her before walking away to where his brother stood waiting.

And that was how she found herself at the Dublin International Airport, dressed in skinny navy blue jeans, a white cardigan with Sherlock's scarf around her neck and with short raven black hair that came only upto her chin,contacts that changed her warm brown eyes to piercing blue ones, clutching a purse that carried her passport and other documents establishing her identity as Eleanor Patrick.

**A/n : So, here it is! **

**How was it? **

**Please let me know in a review.**

**I love you guys!**

**Aditi xoxoxo**


	2. A new start

**Author's note : Oh my. 20 hours and 17 followers?! I'm so happy that I just want to hug all of you. Thank you, thank you for your wonderful support. And so here's chapter 2! I hope you like it!**

**By the way, my cousin is getting married this thursday. Yay! So next update coming up on saturday :) **

**Please read and review!**

**Disclaimer : Not mine. I'm not the one keeping millions of people waiting since two years.**

She stepped into the City hospital, the place that would be her workplace for the next couple of years. Mycroft had reluctantly agreed to let her work as a doctor, but not as a pathologist. It helped immensely that she had bothered to pursue a diploma in psychiatry along with her pathology post graduation.

And hence, Eleanor Patrick was a psychiatrist, fresh out of medical school. Her education had been stalled for a couple of years when she had left her course midway to take care of her ailing Grandma, who was her only living relative. She had subsequently resumed her studies when her Grandma had passed away after making her promise that she would pursue her career further.

The bunch of lies rolled off Molly's tongue smoothly and in her opinion, fairly convincingly. Indeed, nobody had given any indication of being suspicious. Her application for a job had been accepted almost immediately, thanks to her extraordinary CV which showed that she had published her first paper on acute mania at a mere 18 years of age. The head of the department of psychiatry, an kind elderly man called was more than pleased to have her in his department. She was to start the very next day.

Thus, she went back to her room, in the staff quarters, at 8 in the evening, tired and starving. The room was huge as compared to her London home and it made her feel even more alone. She spent the next few hours unpacking her stuff and making the new place her home. When she was done, she stepped into the bathroom and took a real look at her tired face for the first time. She hadn't slept in the past two days due to which she had purple rings under her eyes. She looked so unfamiliar even to her own eyes that it freaked her out. In a way, she thought, she looked like Sherlock himself. His scarf was still around her neck, her eyes were precisely the same shade as his and her wavy black hair framed her face in a way that made her look almost skinny with her cheekbones jutting out.

A splash of cold water on her face made her feel a lot better but her eyelids drooped due to lack of sleep and she felt a sudden wave of fatigue course through her petite frame. Finally she fell asleep on the couch itself, too tired to even take off her shoes.

The shrill sound of the alarm clock woke her up at seven in the morning and she got out of bed reluctantly. Half an hour later she was in her new consulting room, feeling strangely happy the way things were going. knocked at her door just then.

'Good morning . I trust you are happy with your new office?' he said, smiling at her in a way that suddenly reminded her of her dad.

'Yes Sir, thank you very much' she said returning his smile.

'I'd be pleased to show you around the wards right now if you don't mind' he asked.

'Oh yes. That'd be great' she replied, wondering if everyone was usually this polite and formal in Ireland.

They took a quick detour of the hospital with acting as the guide, pointing out places that she would frequent later like the cafeteria and the library. Finally, they reached the psychiatric wards.

'Every patient in this department needs individual attention as I'm sure you understand . Right now, we have very few patients here so you'll be having just one indoor patient to look after in addition to the out patient department since your fellow doctors are taking care of the few others' he said pointing towards room no.24 where her patient was currently living.

'Yes Sir. Can I take a look at the history of the patient? Or perhaps meet them?' she asked, excited at the prospect of finally interacting with live patients after so many years.

'In a few minutes. First I need to tell you something about this patient. He was brought here only a few days ago. He has had a severe head injury caused by a bullet that had pierced the frontal lobe of his brain. Considering the damage the bullet has done, it's a miracle that he's even alive. I wonder if you remember the case of Phineas Gage? A similar problem has occurred here. Though his motor areas and vital centres are intact, that is he can speak and interact normally, his power of thinking, logical sense and memory are gone and so is his personality. Perhaps things will be clearer when you meet him and talk to him' he continued on and on but Molly wasn't listening. Her blood had run cold at the familiarity of the injury inflicted upon a certain someone on the rooftop of St. Bart's and she just couldn't shake off the suspicion that had made its way into her mind.

And sure enough, when she peeped into the room through the glass door, she saw Jim Moriarty fast asleep on the hospital bed.

**A/n : How many of you saw that coming? ;)**

**Anyhow, how was it? Please let me know! Your reviews mean the world to me.**

**Thank you Rocking the redhead, Adi who is also mou and the guest reviewer for reviewing the previous chapter.**

**Love y'all :)**

**Aditi xoxoxo**


	3. Face it all alone

**Author's note : I'm a day too late but here's chapter 3 for you. For some reason the name of the doctor who is the head of department of psychiatry got erased on it's own. Same with . The name is Doctor Drew by the way. **

**So how have you all been? Did you have a nice Valentine's day? Well, my cousin got married on the same day so you can imagine how much fun we cousins had. Especially since all of my family was together! And my cousin looked so beautiful...**

**Anyway, enough about me. Enjoy Chapter 3! And please review, you know how much I love to read them :)**

**Disclaimer : Not mine. I'm not the one who gets to see Benedict Cumberbatch whenever I want :(**

Her heart was beating so fast that she could feel it slamming onto her ribs. How had this happened? Sherlock had told her that he had seen Moriarty shoot himself. The blood loss after such an injury alone should've been enough to kill him. But no, of all the people in the world who deserved to live, Jim Moriarty had been granted that opportunity. Jim Moriarty who was evil personified, Jim Moriarty who had used her to get to Sherlock, Jim Moriarty because of whom Sherlock had had to fake his death, Jim Moriarty because of whom she was here...

'Dr. Patrick? Are you listening to me?' 's stern voice resounded in her ears and she snapped out of her reverie.

'Yes Sir. I'm sorry. You were saying?' she said meekly.

'Look, I know who he is alright? His papers say that he's Richard Brook but I know he's in fact James Moriarty, the person because of whom London is in such turmoil right now. It's ironical that at a moment when the whole of London knows his name, he himself has no idea who he is. He has no memory of being either Jim Moriarty or Richard Brook or anyone for that matter' said the doctor turning the pages of the file he had in his hands.

'So you really believe he's Jim Moriarty? That he did all those horrible things?' she asked cautiously, not wanting to give anything away.

'Of course. I am also certain that the good detective who tried to bring him down was falsely and mercilessly defamed by the media. Genius like that can't be faked, you know' he added as an afterthought. Molly felt a sudden rush of gratitude go through her and she felt like giving the kind old man a hug. But she thought better of it and instead nodded her head to show that she completely agreed with him.

'I'm sure you are feeling hesitant to accept him as your ward, Dr. Patrick. If you do not wish to do so, feel at liberty to communicate the same to me. I cannot force you to take up his case. However, as your senior I can only give you a piece of advice' he said, his eyes almost pleading her to take up the case.

'And what would that be sir?' she asked quietly. She had already made up her mind though.

'For a doctor, a patient is his responsibility. It is a his duty not to let prejudices and personal reasons affect his treatment. Isn't that what we have all promised to do when we took the Hippocrates oath? To practice medicine ethically and honestly?' he said to her, his voice calm and patient with a hint of apprehension in case she refused.

'You need not worry Sir' she said, laying her hand on his forearm. 'I promise I will look after him and treat him like any other patient, without letting his past doings affect my judgement'.

He caught both of her hands in his large ones.

'Thank you . I had hoped that I could count on you. You don't know what we've been through, what with the psychiatry department being so understaffed. There was no one to look after the out patient department. And this young man has been without a doctor barring myself ever since he has been transferred from the Neurology department... ' he trailed off and sighed.

'I'll leave you to your patients then,Doctor and thank you once again' he walked away with a courteous nod.

As for Molly, she stood rooted to the spot till her instincts kicked in. She had to tell Sherlock! Moriarty was still alive! She had found him!

But the rush of excitement was quite short lived and it died down very quickly as she contemplated over the state of affairs.

Sherlock had not left her any means to contact him and neither had Mycroft. Sherlock's phone had been discarded on the rooftop and she didn't have his current number. She didn't have John or Lestrade's numbers either. So who would she tell? She had had no friends who knew about Sherlock and Moriarty. So she had practically no one to turn to. Mike Stamford? She hadn't known him well enough to confide such an important thing to him. So she had to deal with this alone.

She looked through the glass at Jim again. He looked so peaceful with his hair tousled and his face devoid of the malice that usually adorned his features. A far cry from the Moriarty Sherlock knew. He almost looked like the Jim she had known. Jim from IT. The Jim who had been kind and gentle towards her. The Jim who had for some time given her the best few weeks of her life.

She owed Sherlock's fall, John's misery and her current state of living under an assumed name to him and him alone and yet, she couldn't bring herself to turn away from him.

With a sigh of resignation, she walked back to her office and pulled out her laptop. When the home page opened, she hesitated momentarily before typing in 'Phineas Gage' into the search bar.

If she was supposed to treat her patient, she'd might as well know what exactly was wrong with him.

**A/n : So that was another one.**

**Phineas Gage was a miner who suffered severe head injuries due to an iron rod that damaged his frontal lobe of the brain after breaking through his skull. He recovered but had such a massive personality change that his friends saw him as 'no longer Gage'. Just thought you should know.**

**How was it?**

**Let me know in a review please!**

**Many thanks to Empress of Verace, CreamoCrop, Zora Arian, Rocking the Redhead, saweco, patemalah 21, guest, crooney83 and magic strikes for their wonderful reviews :) I love you all!**

**Aditi xoxoxo**


	4. Researches and out patients

**Author's note : Chapter 4 for you my dear friends. This is more of a filler, I hope you will bear with me. The next chapter will be where Molly would finally meet Jim. **

**Did I mention how much I love you guys? Well, I do. A lot. Thanks for all the wonderful reviews for chapter 3. **

**Disclaimer : Not mine. *sobs quietly***

_Phineas P. Gage (1823–1860) was an American railroad construction foreman now remembered for his improbable survival of an accident in which a large iron rod was driven completely through his head, destroying much of his brain's left frontal lobe, and for that injury's reported effects on his personality and behavior, effects so profound—for a time, at least—that friends saw him as "no longer Gage"._  
_..._  
_..._  
_..._  
_..._  
_Attributes ascribed to Gage which are either unsupported by, or in contradiction to, the known facts include mistreatment of wife and children, an "utter lack of foresight", "a vainglorious tendency to show off his wound", inappropriate sexual behavior, inability or refusal to hold a job, plus drinking, bragging, lying, gambling, brawling, bullying, and thievery_.

Her eyes widened as she read through the article. For all she knew, Jim was already insane and violent enough before the injury. She shuddered to think of what would happen after the injury if the article was to be believed. She would bet anything that neither of the Holmes brothers had foreseen this. She still found it hard to believe.

After having read the article, she was sincerely regretting the promise she had made to Dr. Drew. she supposed she had no choice but to accept and treat Moriarty ( she refused to refer to him as Jim ever again) as best as she could. It would be difficult but she would have to do it. For Sherlock's sake. For the whole of London. And also for her own sake. For, she still felt guilty about leading Moriarty straight to Sherlock when they had been dating. Sherlock had assured her so many times that he didn't blame her in the slightest but she just couldn't rid herself of the feeling. She took a large gulp of her coffee and continued reading.

The article, in its later stages explored the neurological damage to his brain which was too complex even for an accomplished doctor like her. She had almost given up on the article, thinking it would contain no more information about the aftermath of the injury. However, the title Social Recovery in the contents caught her attention.

She gasped out loud as she read the last line of the paragraph.  
Gage eventually "figured out how to live" despite his injury, and was in later life far more functional, and socially far better adapted, than previously thought.

For a couple of minutes, she didn't move. There was hope yet. Hope that the patient in Room 24 would turn into a normal average human being, blissfully unaware of his torrid past. Sudden determination seized her and she decided that this situation was actually in her hands. All it would require on her part was dedication, love, care and a great deal of patience. She would do it. Not for Moriarty, but for Sherlock. It was the least she could do, she felt.

If she made sure that Moriarty have no inkling of his past from anyone, he would never know what he used to be right? The anger and inability to control his emotions was something she could deal with. Her brother had had a very disturbed adolescence and she had enough experience with this sort of thing. In fact, she could make her brother calm down and listen to her when no one else could. For her, he was always her little brother David and he always referred to her as 'my big sis Molly'.

Lost in thought, she dozed off in her chair, still too exhausted from the previous day.

Moriarty walked into her cabin just then, wearing an annoyed expression on his face. He said nothing but merely glared at her and then started speaking, in a foreign tongue she could make nor head or tail of. He was yelling at her now, pointing his finger accusingly at her. She stood up with her hands on his shoulders, trying to get him to calm down. He shrugged off her hands and said things in the same angry tone again but in a lower voice. She tried again, putting her hands on his shoulders and muttering words of comfort to him. He stopped speaking finally and looked up at her and quite suddenly, stood up and embraced her tightly, crushing her to him.

The phone rang shrilly just then and she woke up with a start, shaken by her dream. The caller was the nurse, asking if she was ready and if the first patient should be sent in. She found herself muttering a tired 'Yes please' before running a trembling hand through her hair. She stood up and greeted the patient with a smile as he sat down on the couch and started rambling about his life.

Her outpatients were done by lunch time and she enjoyed herself immensely. Listening to the problems of so many people was oddly satisfying and they seemed genuinely grateful to her just because she had lent them a patient ear. She joined her fellow doctors in the cafeteria for lunch and they all welcomed her warmly. They had such a great time that she almost forgot that she had to meet her ward at two in the afternoon.

Finally, she mustered up the courage to walk up to his room and glanced through the window as usual. He was nowhere to be seen. Curious, she thought as she opened the door and walked inside just in time for a china cup being thrown at her, missing her head by inches, and shattering against the door through which she had just walked in.

**A/n : How was it? Please let me know in a review! **

**Thank you Aditya, Rocking the redhead, Empress of Verace, patemalah21, LvPayne LaZ2LogN, whytejigsaw, Adi Who is Also Mou, Guest, Creamocrop for reviewing chapter 3. I love you all and I wish I could hug each and everyone of you right now.**

**Aditi xoxoxo**


	5. Room no 24 : The first patient

**Author's note : I know, I know. I'm a terrible person. I'm really sorry but I had a really busy week. Anyway, here's chapter 5! It took me ages to think of what to write in this one but finally came up with this. I hope you people like it! **

**Thanks to everyone who reviewed the previous chapter. I love you guys! **

**Aaaaand Season 3 filming has started! Makes me so very happy! **

**Disclaimer : Not mine. I don't even live in the UK. Sad fact of life. Move on.**

Her heart had started hammering again as she saw him for the first time after so many months. His hair was cropped short and he had lost a lot of weight. His face looked gaunt, his cheeks were bruised and his bloodshot eyes, oh those eyes which she had loved so much had now sunken inside their sockets and were staring at her angrily.

'Why am I locked in here? Why can't I get out?' he yelled and Molly took a step back, slightly alarmed by his condition. He was hyperventilating and she the blood rush to his pale face. She had to calm him down somehow, even if it meant making false promises.

'Why don't you lie down and we'll talk about this, love' she said sweetly, hoping against hope that he wouldn't throw something else at her. To her immense surprise, he walked to the bed without a word and sat on the edge and stared at his hands that lay in his lap.

'I'm bored. I don't want to be here' he said sulkily. It reminded her so much of Sherlock that she burst out laughing before realising her mistake and stopped immediately. His head snapped up at her and his voice was dangerously low.

'You think this is funny' he growled in a voice that made her skin creep.

'Now now Jim, no need to get angry. I'm sorry, I wasn't laughing at you. Just a little something I remembered' she rambled on and on, trying to lighten his mood. It worked surprisingly well once again. He let out a long breath and got into bed, staring at the sky.

She had read about the severe mood changes that Gage suffered from after his accident but nothing could've prepared her for this. He was almost like putty in her hands, with no control over his emotions at all. It would take a great deal of time and patience to fix him, but despite everything, Molly was relieved. When the china cup had shattered above her head, she had thought that her worst fears had come true. Jim had become a senseless, crazy, angry young man. But this.. this was something she could deal with. She felt herself relax a bit and smiled a little.

He was staring at her now and he returned her smile. It was a simple upturn of his lips but her spirits definitely rose with it. Suddenly he frowned at her. Her eyebrows rose into her fringe, fearing one more angry outburst. Instead he merely wondered aloud. 'Who's Jim?' he asked.

_Oh_.

'J-Jim? Who said anything about Jim?' she stuttered. She had resolved to keep every detail of his previous life from him and here she was, breaking it within the first five minutes of meeting him. Congratulations Molly Hooper, said a voice in her head that sounded very much like Sherlock.

'You called me Jim. Why Jim? What's my name anyway?' his eyes rolled in confusion and he stared at her again. Oh God, his stares. They made her feel like he could see through every fibre of the clothes she wore, every living cell present in her body. She instinctively clutched her lab coat tighter before taking a deep breath and turning to him.

'Your name is Richard, love. Richard Brook. Isn't that a nice name?' she said with false sweetness.

'Yea it's nice I suppose, but I liked Jim more. Why did you call me Jim anyway?' he asked once again.

And there we go, she thought in exasperation.

'It was a mistake, Richard. You just reminded me of someone I used to know. He looked just like you' she said gently.

'Really? Who was he?' he asked curiously.

It was at this point that she snapped. Two days of staying awake for Sherlock, plotting his death, leaving London merely hours later, losing her very existence all due to the person sitting in front of her, and he had the nerve to ask her endless questions!

'It's got nothing to do with you. Why don't you think about things that are your own business?' she said coldly to him before biting her tongue as she realised her mistake. And there comes another outburst, she thought helplessly and closed her eyes.

But it never came. Instead when she opened her eyes, she found him curled into a foetal position, shaking as silent sobs wrecked his body. Molly felt a stab of guilt go through her before she walked over to the other side of the bed and pried his hands away form his face. There were tears, real tears glistening on his cheeks and his eyes were red again.

'I'm sorry Richard' she whispered and he just nodded staring at her again. 'Why are you crying?' she asked as gently as she could.

'It's the other people' he sniffed, 'They all treat me horribly. They never talk to me even if I'm awake. They ignore me altogether. They talk about me in front of me but never tell me why I'm here. I've been so alone all these days. Nobody bothers' he sobbed into his hands.

Despite knowing fully well what terrible crimes the man had committed, a pang of pity went through Molly. It must have been so maddening for him, no company at all, no television, no newspapers, no books. Just loneliness as his constant companion. Her hand reached for his face and she brushed away his tears without even thinking what she was doing. The only thing she could think of was how she had done the same for Sherlock a few days ago. Fate really was cruel sometimes.

'Don't you worry Richard. I'm here now. I'll make sure you aren't alone anymore' she promised and he smiled at her suddenly. It was a full ear to ear smile and it made his face light up the way it would when they were dating. She returned the smile without hesitation.

'I'd like to sleep now. My head feels heavy' he muttered and she nodded, tucking him in.

'I'll see you later then ok? Take care' she smiled at him before walking towards the door.

'Wait' he said and she turned. 'You never told me who you were' he said slowly.

'I'm Mol- Eleanor. Your very own friend' she told him, catching herself in time.

'El-ea-nor' he said very slowly and then shook his head. 'It's too difficult. I think I'll just call you Ella' he brightened up again.

'Whatever you wish, love' she said to him and strolled away just catching the words he muttered before drifting off to sleep.

_Ella. My Ella_

Maybe looking after him wasn't going to be as difficult as she had thought.

**A/n : Yes, mood swings are very common in patients who have suffered a neurological injury. **

**So, how was it? Their first meeting after the fall?**

**Like it? Hate it? **

**Please let me know!**

**I love you all. Adi and Megan, I don't know what I'd do without you :) **

**Aditi xoxoxo**


	6. New friends and old memories

**Author's note : Hey everyone! Here's a new chapter for you all! I hope you like it :) Please read and review! A big thanks to everyone who reviewed the previous chapter. **

**Disclaimer : Moffat, Gatiss, I am thy humble servant.**

Soon days became weeks and weeks became months and before she realised it, a month had already passed since she had started working at the hospital. The work was immensely pleasing but Jim still scared her to an extent. True, he was almost like putty in her hands and always listened to her, but his mood swings alarmed her.

To understand him better, she was spending more and more time reading about the Frontal Lobe syndrome and it was helping her immensely.

They had fallen into a routine, with Molly coming to see him at two every afternoon and leaving only when he slept off. She got him books to read, to teach him about human behaviour, emotions and moral sense, all of which he seemed to have forgotten. She had even convinced Dr. Drew to allow a TV in his room and he had agreed reluctantly, only because he had seen how hard she was trying.

He had been very kind towards her and had once mentioned that she reminded him of his step daughter who lived in London. The other staff was just as good, helping her out with anything she needed. Yet, the air of loneliness always hung around her and she always found herself wanting a real friend.

* * *

A nurse entered her consulting room to tell her that Dr. Drew was calling her to his office. She knocked softly on the HOD's door, wondering what he could want from her.

'Ah, there you are Dr. Patrick. I want you to meet someone. This is my daughter ' he said, introducing a young brunette. She couldn't have been older than 28 and was almost the same height as Molly. She had warm brown eyes and wore a simple cream blouse with a brown skirt.

'Hi I'm Mary. It's great finally meeting you, Dr. Patrick. I've heard so much about you from Dad' she smiled.

'It's nice to meet you too. Please call me Eleanor' she replied with a smile, extending her hand, taking an instant liking to the woman in front of her. She could see the resemblance between herself and Mary. She might've been her doppelganger if her hair wasn't black and her eyes weren't blue at the moment.

'I have to go now Dad, I'll see you later?' she said and her father nodded and she gave him a hug. 'Hope to see you again, Eleanor' she winked at her and left the office.

Molly, meanwhile was trying hard not to let the tears that had pooled in the eyes trickle down her face. Oh how she missed her Dad! It had been almost three years since he passed away but not a day went past when she didn't think of him. And after watching this affectionate exchange between father and daughter, her eyes had welled up. And she was just his step-daughter! She was sure even Sherlock wouldn't have deduced it. It was hard to believe that they weren't related by blood.

* * *

She walked back to Jim's room quietly. He was awake and rewarded her with a huge smile when she entered. She felt the corners of her mouth twitch up, his smile was really infectious.

'And how are we today, Richard?' she asked him in a falsely sweet voice.

He winced slightly before shaking his head slightly and smiling up at her again.

'Great. I was waiting for you' he replied. She was unsurprised. He always winced when she called him Richard. She knew he preferred Jim, but calling him Richard was taking him one step farther away from his past.

She settled into her usual armchair and took out her worn out copy of The Oxford textbook of old age psychiatry . It had belonged to her father. Looking at her father's name written in his own handwriting on the first page brought about a fresh bout of tears and before she knew it, she was sobbing her heart out.

The tears fell freely, wetting the old pages and reminded her of all the things in her life that had changed so drastically in the past month. She cried, not just for her father but for the situation she was in, for Sherlock, for John, for Mrs. Hudson, for Greg and for herself. The day Sherlock had died in the eyes of the world, a part of her had died with him. She had been there to comfort him but no one had been there for her.

A pair of strong arms around her made her jump slightly and she looked up to see Jim staring at her. He shook his head slightly and silently wiped away her tears.

'Please don't cry' was all he said before gently placing a kiss on her forehead. Without thinking, she threw herself into his arms and hugged him tight. A hug, that was really what she needed at the moment. She felt him stiffen at her touch, before relaxing and putting his arms around her again. He stroked her hair gently and patted her back before she calmed down and disentangled herself from his embrace, with her cheeks flaming.

At that moment it struck her how much progress she had made with Jim. Not a month ago he had yelled at her, thrown china at her and here he was now, comforting her like any other friend would have done.

He didn't say anything for the remainder of the afternoon and she was glad. They went about as usual, him watching TV while she read, seated in the armchair.

'Ella?' he asked in a meek voice after some time.

'Yes, Rich?' she asked.

'Why are they doing that?' he asked, puzzled, pointing towards the TV.

A blush crept up her face as she saw that he was watching the New Year special episode of Friends and Monica and Chandler were kissing each other sweetly as Auld Lang Syne played in the background.

'They're doing it because it's New Year and people do that to celebrate a new beginning and also because they love each other' she said.

'What about the others? They don't love each other, do they?' he said, pointing to Rachel and Joey, Ross and Phoebe and many others.

'Um.. It's a New Year tradition. You kiss the person nearest to you to celebrate the moment' she explained hesitatingly, wondering if he would understand. He just nodded and she went back to her book.

He said nothing for the rest of the day and neither did she.

* * *

When he finally fell asleep, she gathered her things and left his room only to run into Mary.

'Hey Mary!' she greeted her.

'Eleanor! I was about to go to the cafeteria to grab a bite. Would you like to join me?' she asked.

'That would be lovely' said Molly cheerfully.

It was when they were seated in the cafeteria with a plate of croissants and coffee that Molly spoke again.

'So what do you do in London?' she asked.

'Oh I work at the St. Bartholomew's hospital' Mary replied and Molly nearly choked.

'Really? That's great. It's a very reputed hospital right?'

'Yes! And I was waiting so long for an opportunity to work there! I was so happy when I got the offer. Their pathologist left for some reason and so I was called in to replace her' she said and Molly's head started spinning.

How much more was she going to suffer? How long would it be before she could go back to her old life again? She would be lying if she said that life in Dublin was unpleasant but she wanted to go home! Back to her brother! Back to her lab! Back to her morgue! And most importantly, she wanted to go back to Sherlock!

Just then, Mary's phone rang and she excused herself. Molly took a large gulp of her coffee and sank into her chair. Nothing made sense anymore. She was making progress with Jim and that made her happy.

But how long would it be before the hospital would declare him fit to go home? What would she do then? And what if Sherlock took years more to take down the network? What if Jim's men came for him and restored him to power once again?

She was jolted out of her reverie when Mary returned, still on the phone.

'Yes I will. Okay. Take care. I love you ' she was saying.

'Boyfriend?' asked Molly.

'Yes' Mary admitted, blushing. 'In fact, I met him at Bart's only a couple of weeks ago. He had come looking for someone in the pathology lab. The previous pathologist maybe. Molly someone' she rambled without paying attention to Molly who had gone pale.

'His name is John. John Watson' she said.

Molly simply stared into her coffee. How many more surprises were awaiting her?

**A/n : How many of you saw that coming? ;)**

**So how have you guys been? I know it's a long time since I updated but I was really busy with my preliminary exams. I don't know what I was thinking, not uploading, since they were horrible anyway.**

**So how was it?**

**Like it? Hate it?**

**Review maybe?**

**I love you all :D**

**Aditi xoxoxo**


	7. Christmas surprises

**Author's note : I'm in a good mood, so here's chapter 7 :) I'm fast forwarding the story to Christmas time. And there's a Harry Potter reference in here, very subtle but kudos to whoever spots it! I hope you like it. Thanks to everyone who reviewed the previous chapter :) **

**Disclaimer : Nothing's mine.**

A week had passed since she had met Mary and she was extremely glad to have her as a friend. They got along so well, it was hard to believe that it had just been a week since they first met. Mary was going to stay in Dublin for another week before returning to London.

Through her, Molly had managed to find out a lot of things about John. If Mary was to be believed, John was trying his best to move on. True, he was a mere shadow of his former self and his life had been virtually empty after Sherlock had left, but at least he wasn't alone anymore. He had come to the lab looking for Molly and had found Mary instead, and had returned almost everyday for a week before finally asking her out.

Mary had shown her a picture and Molly had reeled back in shock. This just wasn't the John Watson she had known, the one with the cute jumpers, the broad shoulders, the cheerful face. This John looked...different. There was no other word for it. His eyes had dark circles under them, he had lost a lot of weight but for some reason, despite all of this, he still looked happy. He had his arm around Mary in the picture and both of them were smiling at the camera. She heaved a sigh of relief. John wasn't alone. Mary would take care of him.

A wave of guilt coursed through her as she imagined his condition. Sherlock had been his best friend and really, she had no right to pity herself when there were people like John and Mrs. Hudson, who didn't even know that he was alive.

The next week passed just as quickly and it was time for Mary to go back to London.

'Please take care of him' thought Molly as her friend embraced her and walked towards the departure gate.

* * *

A few more months passed uneventfully and before she knew it, it was Christmas time. She sighed as she stretched herself after waking up. This was the first Christmas she would spend without her friends or family. Mary was in London, Sherlock was away and her brother knew nothing of her whereabouts save that she was out of the country. So she expected no presents. And after the horrible Christmas a year ago at Baker street, she really didn't look forward to Christmas anymore. Which was why she was pleasantly surprised when she opened her door to find a small pile of presents lying at her doorstep. She brought them in and put them on her desk.

The first one was from her brother. It hadn't been delivered by post so she supposed it was one of Mycroft's men who had done the job. She smiled as she held the black clutch purse in her hands. She had wanted something like this for a long time.

The next one was from Mary, a green silk scarf and she grinned as she wove it around her neck. Her present had reached Mary yesterday itself and she had squealed on the phone for a full fifteen minutes on how much she loved the knitted shrug Molly had gifted her.

The next one was from Dr. Drew. She was surprised but happy when she saw that it was a gift voucher for a bookstore and an invitation to the Christmas dinner at the hospital. He knew how much she loved books and she was only too glad for the invitation. It would be nice to dress up and have a nice evening after so long.

The last one however was curiously light and had no card on it. She tore away the brown wrapping paper and opened the box, only to choke up in tears once again. It was the hat, his hat, the deerstalker that fell into her lap. She wiped away her tears, to look for a note. It was pinned to the inside of the hat and it simply read

_Merry Christmas Molly Hooper_.

She clutched the hat to herself and smiled after what seemed like ages. This was his way of telling her that he was alive. He was safe. It was the best gift she could've asked for.

* * *

Later that afternoon, she went to Jim's room only to find him seated on his bed, staring at the presents lying on the armchair. She was startled, she hadn't thought he would receive any presents.

'Merry Christmas Richard' she smiled at him as she entered.

'Oh, Ella. Merry Christmas' he replied, without smiling.

'What's the matter? Don't you want to unwrap your presents?' she asked gently.

'I didn't want to do it alone' he admitted 'But you're here now, we can unwrap them together!' he said excitedly and jumped up to gather them from her armchair and dumped them on the bed.

'Let's open this one first, shall we?' she pointed to a small package lying on the top of the pile.

To her immense surprise, it was a pair of gloves from Dr. Drew. She felt a surge of gratitude towards the man. How thoughtful of him, to give presents to his patients as well, especially the ones he knew wouldn't be getting a lot of gifts!

The next one was from her, a full sleeved white shirt and Jim hugged her on unwrapping it, which just served as another reminder to how much they had accomplished together. His mood swings had become very rare and he was always on his best behaviour nowadays.

The next one was a rather large lumpy package and the name on the card took her breath away.

_Dearest Jim,_

_Merry Christmas_

_From Mummy and Daddy._

From the package, tumbled a hand knitted jumper and Molly was too shocked for words. She had been Jim's doctor for a full five months now and she had never known about his parents. She had never seen them and he had never spoken of them and she was pretty sure they had never come to visit him. He looked just as confused, turning the jumper over and over in his hands. Finally, he shrugged and put it on.

She decided to leave the questions for Dr. Drew and wondered who the last gift was from. It was a small box but very heavy. He tore open the paper, opened the box and what was inside made her blood freeze inside her veins.

Inside was a small loaded revolver with a note that said

_Merry Christmas Jimmy_

_From S Moran._

**A/n : So how was it? Like it? Hate it? **

**Please let me know in a review!**

**I wrote this chapter just because I love getting presents on Christmas. It's one of the best feelings in the world :)**

**Lots of love**

**Aditi xoxoxo**


	8. How did it end up like this?

**Author's note : Guys, I have some really wonderful news. I got selected for the intercollegiate anatomy quiz! I'm going to represent my college with thre others! So happy! Here's chapter 8. I don't know if you all are still or not, but I really hope that you'll make me even happier than I am right now by reviewing! I love you all so much. **

**Listen to : All these things I hate by BFMV**

**Disclaimer : Nothing is mine. **

There was nothing to be done. She had told Dr. Drew to let no one else other than her, the nurse and himself enter Jim's room. It was at moments like these that she desperately wished she had some means to communicate with either Sherlock or Mycroft. Sebastian Moran.. she had heard of the name before. Jim had mentioned him once or twice when they were still dating, referring to him as his closest friend.

The desire to protect Jim from a past that would haunt him forever was overwhelming but her hands were tied. She was as helpless as Jim himself and there really was nothing she could do. The parcel couldn't be tracked sice it had not arrived by post. The surveillance footage showed one of the staaff members carrying a large number of parcels from the box where the patients' relatives were supposed to leave their christmas presents. Someone had delivered it with another parcel, she couldn't make out who.

So it was a dead end of sorts. There was nothing to be done but be ready for Moran if he tried to contact Jim.

* * *

The week flew by real quick and before she knew it, it was the 31st of December. She was sitting in her usual armchair in Jim's room when he called out, 'Ella?'

'Yes?'

'Have a look at this' said he.

What she saw made her face light up into a smile. The page he was pointing to ahd a full length photo of her favourite band, Bullet For My Valentine with the words

_BFMV in concert  
The Sullivan Hall  
Vander Street  
Dublin -04  
Tickets available at the venue_

She all but squealed in delight. Bullet for my Valentine! She loved their music! Her taste in Heavy metal music had been frowned upon by many of her batchmates at the University but she had never cared. She was a hard core fan of metal, and now there was going to be a concert in the very city she was in! Oh this was wonderful!

'Seems like you really want to go' said Jim with a smirk.

'Oh yes, I really do! I adore them, they're the best!' she squealed.

'Well, you should go then! The concert is this evening isn't it?' he said.

At his words however, she felt herself deflating. She was on duty till Jim fell asleep and the concert was from 7 pm onwards. There was no way she could attend it unless he fell asleep before 7, which was highly improbable. She sat down on the armchair again, shaking her head slightly.

'I can't go at all, I have to stay with you remember?' she said, disappointed that her plans had dissolved even before they had been formed. She looked at Jim once again, not understanding the reason behind the naughty grin that was adorning his features.

'What d'you say to getting a bit sneaky tonight, Dr. Eleanor Patrick?' he smirked and winked at her and she felt herself grinning in response.

* * *

She had looked through every nook and crammy of her closet but still couldn't fine them. Where on earth could they be? After another fifteen minutes of futile searching later, she gave up and settled on the sofa, resigning herself to pick out something else from her wardrobe, maybe the dress she had worn for Christmas at 221B which was currently in a box of clothes to be given away for charity...

She sat bolt upright. The charity box. She hadn't checked there. Of course! They had to be in there!

Sure enough, she found the clothes she was looking for, a pleated leather miniskirt and a black tank top with a fluorescent printed design that glowed in the dark. She hadn't worn them since she that last farewell party before she had graduated.

She quickly pulled them on and heaved a sigh of relief when she found that they still fit, though that was more than likely because of the pitiful quantities of food she ate nowadays, just enough to keep her alive.

She dug around a little more and found a pair of thick black stockings and her brother's old jacket that she was insanely fond of. A bit of makeup followed and she turned her attention to her eyes, outlining them in black, black and more black. A glance into the full length mirror in her living room made her nod in approval. She smiled at her reflection.

She had missed this a lot and her job at the high profile hospital of Bart's had left her with no chance to dress like she wanted. Now, she looked like a true BFMV fan.

Finally she put on a pair of ankle length boots and gathered her stuff. She was ready to go and enjoy what would hopefully turn out to be one of the best evenings in a long time.

* * *

Jim was waiting for her in the alleyway next to the vegetarian restaurant opposite the hospital. It still amazed her how easy it had been to sneak him out, under disguise of course. He now sported a french beard and wore a baseball cap with a pair of thick rimmed glasses. It was hard to recognise him right away.

His eyes widened slightly as he took in her appearance.

'Wow Ella, you look... different' he said in amazement.

'Is that a good difference or a bad one?' she asked, winking at him before taking his arm and walking down to the bus stop.

It felt so weirdly familiar, walking with him like this and she almost felt like the past year had never happened, she had never broken up with Jim and he had never been a consulting criminal. His fingers intertwined with her own and she looked at him to see him gazing back at her. She grinned at him and soon they got off at Vander street. Fifteen minutes later, they found themselves in a very overcrowded Sullivan Hall.

The crowd yelled themselves hoarse when the band finally arrived on stage and she yelled with them, truly excited. The first song they played was _Tears don't Fall_ and she lost herself in the music as she swayed from side to side, joining in the chorus along with the others. The lyrics were pretty much the story of her life and she was glad to let go of it, let go of the twisted situation she was in and just forget about everything if only for a couple of hours.

She had looked over at Jim once or twice and he was merely observing the people around him rather than listening to the music. After all, he had stepped out of his room after a really long time and was seeing so many people at once for the first time. Almost all of the staff had taken an early day off and it was easy to smuggle him outside the hospital. She expected she'd get into trouble for it later but at the moment she simply didn't care.

The next song was _All these things I hate revolve around me_, one of her favourites. The crowd cheered madly once again and she joined in...

They stumbled into the psychiatry ward at 11:30 pm, the heavy metal music still buzzing in their ears. Molly decided that this had, without a doubt, been one of the best evenings of her life. She sank into her armchair while he settled on his bed and stretched himself with his hands behind his head.

She remembered fondly that he used to do that when they used to watch Glee together. Those times now seemed too distant, like moments from someone else's life that she had stolen, a time when everything had seemed perfect... Jim had made it perfect. She had been dangerously close to falling in love with him before Sherlock had intervened and burst her happy bubble. She had sworn not to forgive him but ended up doing it anyway, because everything was forgiven where Sherlock was concerned.

The break up with Jim had been one of her worst and it had taken her weeks to get over him. Sometimes she even wondered if she had fallen in love with him back then. Jim was everything she had wanted, everything she had hoped for. It would've been the easiest thing to fall in love with him, except for the fact that he'd turned out to be a consulting criminal and a complete psychopath.

But what about now? She didn't have to worry about the consullting criminal bit anymore and Jim was more or less the same as he was when they were dating. Lovable, funny, charming.. Wouldn't it be just as easy to fall for him once again? She knew he adored her and trusted her completely and over the months she had come to care for him just as deeply. Was it possible, then, that she could be falling in love with him all over again?

As a child, she'd always dreamt of the perfect guy, having a happy ending and all sorts of such stuff. But was this suppposed to be her happy ending then, as happy as it could get? As twisted and complicated it was, she found that she could live with it. Living in Dublin would be a welcome change after Bart's, being ordered around by a man who would never reciprocate her feelings.  
She could easily continue her existence here even after Sherlock had wrapped up all of Jim's network. They knew he was still alive, but very soon, all of them would be behind bars. As for Sebastian Moran, she was sure that he would try his best to get to Jim. But she would have to deal with it and be ready for him when he finally arrived on the scene. There was nothing else to be done. If only she could contact Sherlock or Mycroft...

'Penny for your thoughts?' his voice interrupted her train of thoughts and she looked up to see him smiling at her. She smiled back, before noticing the time.

'Oh, it's almost midnight! I really should get going!' she exclaimed. The staff quarters were thankfully in the campus itself so she didn't have to worry about reaching home safely. She grabbed her things, wished him good night and was about to leave when he suddenly grabbed her by the elbow and spun her around so that she was now facing him.

He was looking at her, his eyes blazing and she realised what was going at happen just a moment before it did. He leant in and she felt her eyes flutter shut as his lips touched hers lightly before he drew back.

'Happy New Year, Ella' he said, smiling.

As for her, she said nothing. Nothing at all. Maybe it was just the shock of what had happened.

'Ella?' he said, raising an eyebrow and shaking her slightly.

She snapped back and looked at him. He looked so innocent, so full of life. There was no trace of the anger that had been boiling inside him when she had first seen him. It was as if he was a completely different person now.  
Without really considering what she was doing, she stood on tiptoes and kissed him. It wasn't light and it was definitely not gentle.

Abstaining from human touch for more than five months had done nothing to help her and now she felt herself break free, lose control and get lost in what could only be described as pure bliss, his arms around her waist, hers around his neck, their lips moving in synchrony, breaths mingling and everything that she had thought and yet so much more.

She felt herself being pressed against the wall and his body flush against hers. She could tell that he was acting on pure instinct, the way his hands hesitated before moving down her sides and settling at her hips. She didn't even realise when they had moved to the bed. His arms wound around her protectively as he broke the kiss, burying his face in the crook of her neck, his lips caressing her pulse point. Her hands moved to his collar, ripping off the buttons and tracing the planes of his chest. His hand was at her waist, slipping under her tshirt, the feel of his cold hands on her hot skin, ice and fire, she had yearned for this for so long and now it was finally happening, what was supposed to happen ages ago, everything had been perfect but it had all shattered when Sherlock had come barging into their relationship...

Sherlock.

The one reminder was enogh to bring her back to her senses, to slap her awake. What the hell had she done? One moment of weakness and she had almost slept with Sherlock's arch enemy, the man because of whom she had lost her existence and Sherlock had lost his life, his friends, his everything.  
She broke free with a gasp and Jim looked at her, confused and almost hurt.

Trembling from head to toe, she planted a shaky kiss on his lips, begging him to understand. She smiled when he kissed her back, gently, his hands cradling her face.  
Despite what she had just thought, in the heart of hearts she knew that this was not the same person. This was not Jim Moriarty. That person had died the day Sherlock had jumped off the roof. This was a different person altogether. A person who deserved to be loved just like everyone else. This was someone who wasn't responsible for what had happened before the Fall. This was Jim, her Jim.

She rested her head on his chest and listened to his heart beating rapidly, in sync with her own. He stroked her hair idly and she wondered what he was thinking. His arms tightened around her and he pulled her closer to himself as if protecting her and she smiled sleepily at the unconscious gesture. He pulled back to look into her eyes once more and she felt like she was being X-rayed, like he could see right through her soul. He said nothing, simply leaned in and pressed a kiss to her forhead and she realised she loved him.

**A/n : Whoa. It's finally happened. Molly's gone and fallen in love with Jim ;)**

**How was it? **

**Like it? Hate it?**

**Let me know!**

**Aditi xoxoxo**


	9. Gone

**Author's note : First thing that I owe you all is an apology. For taking ages to update. For writing Molly x Jim moments in a Sherlolly story. Please bear with me. This is the last chapter with Jim. I hope you all like it.**

**A huge thank you to Black-Coffee-two-sugars-please, deadgurlagain, Zora Arian, Rocking the Redhead, Renaissancebooklover108, booklover669, Guest ( I do wish you would mention your name), and MorbidbyDefault for leaving wonderful reviews for the previous chapter.**

**You guys keep me going and I love you all so much! Thanks again :)**

**Disclaimer : The plot is mine. Nothing else.**

**Listen to : Tum Pukar Lo from Khamoshi. It's in Hindi but the music is beautiful.**

She woke up the next morning when it was still dark. A warm blush crept over her cheeks as she felt a pair of strong arms encircled around her waist, holding her close. The events of the previous night were still a muddle in her brain but his arms felt oddly comforting, a reminder that he was still there, right there with her. After seeing her hesitation, he had simply pulled her into his arms and they had fallen asleep that way, her head on his shoulder and his arms around her.

However, there was no time to lose. The luminous hands of her wristwatch showed the time to be 4:55 am. Soon the hospital would be bustling with people. If there was one risk she couldn't afford to take, it was being discovered in bed, in the arms of her own patient, in clothes that were hardly fit for a 31 year old doctor.

Gently, she slipped away from his embrace, every pore in her body screaming at the loss of contact. Her boots were lying in a forgotten corner and her jacket had been thrown absentmindedly on the armchair. She couldn't even dare to imagine the state of her hair and eyes. Thankfully, she had remembered to take off the contact lenses before falling asleep.

In the blink of an eye, she gathered her stuff and almost flew to the door only to turn back, to glance at the man currently asleep peacefully in his bed. Without realising what she was doing, she tiptoed across the room to him and pressed a kiss to his forehead, careful not to wake him up.

'I love you Jim' she whispered, brushing away a stray strand of hair from his forehead.

'I'll be back in the afternoon' she promised before running away to her own apartment.

* * *

To say that she felt tired would've been an understatement. She was completely exhausted, physically and mentally. She took one look at her still made bed and decided to take advantage of the fact that there were no Out patients to be seen that day. She was free to go to the hospital after lunch, to check up on Jim. As she collapsed on her bed without even taking off her stockings, she wondered sleepily how much longer Jim was to stay in the psychiatry ward, before sleep took over. Something felt wrong, very wrong but she ignored it as her eyes closed.

It was nearly 10 when she awoke with a yawn and decided to take a hot bath. The morning was frigid and she was sure hot water would so her good. A well made breakfast followed and before she knew it, it was time to go to the hospital to see Jim. Maybe she could even talk to Dr. Drew about his release.

The feeling of something being wrong lingered but she brushed it away as her imagination. Nothing could possibly be wrong.

She trudged up the stairs to her office and grabbed his file before running into the nurse who worked in the department.

' Hey Lisa' she greeted.

'Dr. Patrick' she nodded, ' Where are you going?'

'Just checking up on my patient' she said, wondering why the nurse would ask her such a question.

'Oh have you been assigned a new case already?' said Lisa.

'No, I'm going to check on Richard' said Molly, fear clawing at her insides. Why would she say that? Why was she acting so curiously?

'But he was discharged hours ago!' the nurse burst out.

The blood in her veins froze and she felt her heart jump into her mouth.

'What d'you mean discharged?' she managed to croak out.

'He left. His parents came to receive him, nice old lady -'

'Why wasn't I informed?' yelled Molly.

'I tried to call you, Doctor but you never picked up your phone-'

'You could have waited till I arrived! What was the hurry? You could have told his parents to wait!'

'They insisted Doctor. You weren't there so Dr. Drew signed the discharge papers-'

'Do you have any idea what you have just done?' she shouted at the helpless nurse who was now cowering against the wall, obviously terrified. Molly was losing control, she tried to count to three but it was useless. She closed her eyes and took short gulps of air, trying to calm herself down but ended up hyperventilating anyway.

What if the people posing to be Jim's parents worked for Moran? What if Jim came to know everything about his murky past that she had so carefully hidden from him? What if Sherlock's sacrifice had been in vain? What if Jim was on his way to London right now? What if he had already forgotten everything about her, everything that she had done for him? What if-

'Is there a problem?' a calm voice interrupted her inner charade and she opened her eyes to stare into the green eyes of Dr. Drew.

'It's j-just, I... ' she stammered, suddenly thinking if he was going to fire her. Not if she ended up resigning first.

'Why don't we talk in my office Doctor?' he said, a tired look on his face.

'Why didn't you let me k now? He was my ward after all!' she burst out, the moment he shut the door behind him.

'Calm down Dr. Patrick. I've signed in your place. What is the problem?' he asked.

Suddenly, it occurred to Molly that there was really nothing she could do. What was she supposed to say? That she had fallen in love with Jim? That she was all a part of the big plan of the Holmes brothers? That the reason she was besides herself was because she had failed to keep Jim away from his past and Moran? She decided to go for the simplest and most obvious reason.

'He received a gun on Christmas from someone. I just wanted to make sure he wasn't in the wrong hands' she said in a low voice trying to keep her face blank. Her eyes were betraying her though and she felt a large tear slide down her cheek.

'Rest assured Dr. Patrick. He is in safe hands. He's with his parents. The resemblance between father and son is uncanny. They did not tell me where they are taking him but I think it was somewhere in the Indian subcontinent...' he rambled on and on but Molly was hardly listening.

His parents had taken him away. She could do nothing but hope against hope that Moran had no idea of their whereabouts. Maybe that was the reason they were taking him away to so far away.

'Are you even listening to me, Eleanor?' he sighed.

'I'm sorry Sir. You were saying?' she said softly, not trusting her voice not to break.

She was surprised when he said nothing but merely grabbed both of her hands in his own.

'I have had a lot of patients under my care, Ella and I know what it is to become emotionally attached to a patient. A patient for a doctor is nothing but a diseased body and should remain that way because it is always more difficult to treat someone you genuinely care for. Of course, it is easier said than done here in the psychiatry department where the patients crave for even a little bit of affection and who else would give it to them except for their own doctors, whom they love and respect?' he broke off when he saw her trembling from head to toe, barely managing to take in a few breaths.

'I discovered that when I let my feelings get the better of me. She was a married woman who had plunged into depression after her husband's death. I took her home. I married her. I adopted her ten year old daughter. I was foolish enough to believe that my love for her was enough. I couldn't have been more wrong. She never recovered from her first husband's death and finally joined him when she could bear the misery no more' his voice choked up and he dropped her hands.

'Any sort of attachment towards a patient is nothing but a liability, you should understand that' he said in a cold voice. 'Pretending to be their friend, pretending to love them is expected from you but it is the mark of a good doctor to be able to draw a line between the pretense and reality. You are free to spend your evenings as you wish till we get a new indoor patient for you.' he said, clearly dismissing her.

She left the office, still dazed by what the elderly doctor had just said to her. Of course, it all made sense. She walked back to her office almost mechanically before stopping in front of Jim's room. Despite a voice in her head telling her to do otherwise, she entered the room. It had been completely cleaned out. Nothing remained, nothing that could reveal that Jim had lived in the room for almost half a year.

Curiously, no tears spilled out of her eyes. She just felt emptied from within. The closest to this had been when her father had passed away.

She slowly exited the room, paying no heed to where she was going and ran into someone small and warm.

'Ella?' exclaimed a very familiar voice.

Her head snapped up to see Mary Morstan in front of her. She tried her best and plastered a fake smile on her face.

'Mary! How have you been? It's been so long!' she said, trying to sound happy and excited.

Of course, Mary saw through her facade at once.

'Tell me what's wrong' she said softly, taking her hand.

'It's nothing' said Molly, shaking her head.

'I have something for you' said Mary and handed her a white paper that had been folded in half. 'Open it when you go home.'

She tried to bury her hand in her jacket pocket but Molly grabbed it before she could do so.

'John proposed on Christmas' she said happily as Molly hugged the brunette.

* * *

Once home, she almost tore the paper in her haste to read the note. She did not recognise the handwriting and it looked as if the writer had scribbled it in under a minute.

_Dearest Ella,_

_They're taking me away. I don't know where._  
_I had hoped to see you once before I left but I don't think that would be possible._

_The doctor says that I don't need to stay here anymore but I will come back as soon as I can._  
_Please take care._

_I love you._

_Jim._

Her feet remained frozen to the ground as she read the letter again and again.

She read the last time a hundred times over.

Nothing made sense.

He was gone. He was really and truly gone. He was never coming back. She was never going to see him again, never going to feel his arms entwine around her, never kiss him again, never watch trash telly with him again...

He had left. He had no idea that he wasn't coming back. She tried to breathe but couldn't. Her lungs were virtually empty. Her chest was constricting as the need for oxygen became more and more obvious but nothing was functioning.

He was gone.

Gone.

Gone...

She staggered backwards, falling and landing on the sofa.

The one word echoed through her mind, so many times that it was painful beyond limits.

Gone. Gone. Gone. Gone...

Not coming back.

Her fingers dropped the note as realisation slammed into her with the force of a bulldozer and it was pain, pain unlike anything she had ever experienced. She gasped, clutching her heart which seemed to have stopped.

The words, the words.. Three words, eight letters. She had felt it and so had he and yet, she had never said them to him. Oh how she regretted it now!

He had never told her.

She had never said it.

He had never known that she loved him just as much.

Her head dropped into her hands and maybe if she could keep her eyes shut, she could still imagine that he was right here, just like this morning, when she had found herself in his arms of maybe last night when she had realised how much he meant to her...

Her eyes snapped open.

There was no one in front of her.

'I love you' she gasped out into the empty room.

It was then that she finally succumbed to her tears and they came cascading down her cheeks in twin rivers as her body rocked with the effort that it took to keep her breathing as giant sobs shook her to the core.

**A/n : Poor Molly :'(**

**I do feel really bad for her but then, it's necessary for the plot to work out. **

**So that's it! **

**How was it? Like it? Hate it?**

**Worth a review?**

**You decide!**

**Love always **

**Aditi xoxoxo**

**PS- We all know who's going to come barging into Molly's world in the next chapter, don't we? ;)**


	10. Something out of the blue

**Author's note : My exams are done! I'm so so so happy! I'm going to try and update as soon as possible from now on! Pinky swear :)**

**Anyway, here's chapter 10! It took me a long long time to think about this so I really hope you like it!**

**Disclaimer : It isn't mine. But you know that already don't you?**

**Listen to : The Scientist by ColdPlay or How to save a life by The Fray.**

**_'Call me into your arms_**

**_I am waiting for you. _**

**_The night is itself spinning dreams_**

**_because I am so impatiently waiting for you' _**

_Monday_

The alarm rang as usual. Woke up. Showered. Dressed. No breakfast, wasn't hungry. Rounded up the morning patients by noon. Had nothing to do the whole day. Couldn't care less.

_Tuesday_

Woke up before the alarm rang, drenched in sweat after having a particularly horrible nightmare. Showered. Dressed. No breakfast. Didn't trust herself enough to not throw up . Rounded up the morning patients even before noon. Spent the whole day in the library. Collapsed on the bed and fell asleep without even taking off her shoes.

_Two weeks_

Woke up sobbing into her pillow. The nightmares were something even sleeping pills couldn't cure. Dr. Drew was concerned. Mary was concerned. Even the nurse Lisa was concerned.

She had lost five pounds. Her skin was gaunt, shallow and her cheekbones were more prominent than ever. It was hardly surprising since she threw up almost everything she ate nowadays.

_**'The words are on the tip on my tongue,**  
_

_**How much longer do I have to stay awake for you?**_

_**Why are you so oblivious to what is so very apparent?**_

_**It is so very obvious how much I love you.**_

_**Because I'm still waiting for you.**_

_**Call me into your arms.'**_

_Another week. Five weeks now._

It wasn't a test. It wasn't a joke. It wasn't just someone messing with her agony. It was serious.

He wasn't coming back.

Dr. Drew summoned her to his cabin to discuss about the evening out patients that were to be her responsibility since the one in charge had been transferred somewhere else. Good. Gave her less time to think. Less time to do nothing.

'Ella, are you alright?' asks the doctor.

Pain. Chest constricting making it so very difficult to breathe. One short ragged breath burst forth in the form of a single word.

'Fine'

The doctor didn't look convinced but she fled before he could ask anymore.

**_'Knowing that you feel the same things I do_**

**_can only sway my heart so much._**

**_But this night is as stubborn as can be_**

**_Because I'm still waiting for you._**

**_Call me into your arms.'_**

_Two Months_

Accepting the inevitable. Getting used to the emptiness. It wasn't like there was going to be anything else. It was all she was left with.

The department library. At an hour when no sane human being would be awake. Staring into the dying fire, not seeing anything. The words in the book in front of her made no sense. Couldn't care less.

She was jolted awake by Mary hours later who looked at her anxiously before sitting down in the chair next to her.

'Are you okay?' she asked quietly and Molly just nodded in reply.

'Ella, he isn't coming back is he?'

Pain. Eyes hurting. Chest burning. breathing hurt. Speaking hurt. Moving hurt. Thinking hurt. Everything hurt.

'No' she whispered in a broken voice.

That was the last time she allowed herself to think of him.

_Five months later.._

'Ah, Ella. There you are' said Dr. Drew as he ran into her at the cafeteria. She looked loads better than a few months ago and her cheeks were beginning to regain some of their lost colour. However she was still painfully thin and Mary constantly fretted over her, forcing her to eat whenever she visited the hospital.

'There's a new patient for you' he said nonchalantly and her heart sank. She wasn't ready yet. Even the sight of Room no 24 sickened her. She didn't think she could stand frequenting it everyday once again.

'He's a war survivor, admitted for neurasthenia and a bit of acute mania. Terrible condition. Finds it hard even to perform simple activities like tying his shoe laces. The mood swings are really difficult to handle. He has just returned from Tibet. Will you take the case?' he implored to her.

Silence was the only answer she could give the kind doctor at the moment. How was she supposed to visit the very room that haunted her memories every night, pretending that nothing had happened? How was she supposed to treat another patient all the while hoping that there would be someone else sitting in the same place? How was she supposed to forget that night when she had fallen asleep in the arms of Jim?

'If I had even the slightest doubt that you couldn't do this, I wouldn't have asked you, Ella. You've worked wonders with Richard Brook. I can only ask you to do so again and ensure a normal life for this patient too. He needs you' said Dr. Drew.

What was she to say when he said things like these to her? He gave her no chance to refuse.

On the other hand, having something to keep her busy was probably what she needed the most right now. It would keep the unpleasant thoughts at bay. It would give her many more things to read about. It might even make the nightmares go away.

'Ella?' he began but she cut him off, herself surprised at the determination in her voice.

'I'll do it!'

* * *

It was almost three in the afternoon when Dr. Drew escorted her to Room no 24. Her knees felt wobbly and her heart was beating like a drum but she gave no outwardly signs of the violent salsa that was going on inside her. The place brought back so many memories and it was hard not to get overwhelmed. She took a deep breath before opening the door and stepping into the room.

Which was a good thing because what she saw in front of her quite literally took her breath away.

The ginger hair, the sideburns, the dark brown eyes, the large golden spectacles, the loose white shirt, dusty black jacket and old blue jeans made not the slightest difference. She recognised him the moment his eyes met hers.

**A/n : Aaand he's here! So Jim's out and Sherlock is in! I've been waiting for this moment ever since I started writing this fic!**

**So what d'you people think?**

**Review maybe?**

**Aditi xoxoxo**


	11. Room no 24 : The second patient

**Author's note : Chapter 11! Can't believe it's been so long. I've had so much fun writing this fic! This chapter is a bit morbid though. **

**Many thanks to Icemask511, Renaissancebooklover108, BazinGal, Guest, Rocking the Redhead and MorbidByDefault for leaving me lovely reviews for the previous chapter. You guys are amazing and I really love you all!**

**Disclaimer : Not mine, but you know that already don't you?**

**Listen to : A Lack of Color by Death Cab For Cutie.**

****The moment Dr. Drew left them alone, she rushed into his arms and enveloped him in an embrace so intense that he actually staggered backwards. She didn't care in the least. It felt so relieving to see a familiar face after what felt like ages. After the last few weeks, being in his arms felt like heaven. It was absurd, meeting under a circumstance where neither of them were themselves for the world but being in his arms felt like coming home.

His papers said he was Arthur Vernet and it was amazing how easily he had slipped into the personality of a war survivor. The traces of Sherlock Holmes were still visible, but that was only because she knew him so well.

'It's nice to see you too, Molly but I'm afraid I don't share the spontaneous urge to rugby tackle you to the floor' he said and she choked back a sob. That voice, she had missed it so much! At the moment, she wouldn't have cared even if he would have spewed insults at her, about how the blue eyes and black hair didn't suit her at all, how unhealthy she looked or how the clothes she wore made her look more like a hippie and less like a doctor.

Warm, steady relief was coursing through her veins. He was alive, he was here, meaning that his work was finally done!

'Oh Sherlock!' she cried before burying herself into his arms once again. His hesitance was evident as he stiffened involuntarily before relaxing and patting her on the back awkwardly.

'So, you're my new patient, eh?' she asked in a teasing voice before noticing the solemn expression on his face. It was just like a few days before the fall.

_You look sad when you think he can't see you._

Dr. Drew wasn't right was he?

'Sherlock, what's the matter? Why are you really here?' she asked softly.

It was only then that he really looked at her and she realised how much he had changed apart from the obvious. He had always been a lean person but now he looked even thinner than before. It was only the presence of the large gold rimmed glasses that had prevented her from noticing how unusually prominent his cheekbones appeared. his alabaster skin had always looked healthy even in the dim lights of the morgue, but now, it was obvious that he hadn't had even a glimpse of the sun in a very long time.

'I- Yes. The work is done. The network has been destroyed, bit by bit and all h-his men are behind bars. But I'm not here just to take you home, Molly' he said and his voice broke a little at the last word and she gasped.

'Dr. Drew was right? You are suffering from Neurasthenia and Acute mania?' she exclaimed.

He shook his head slightly. 'N-not the acute mania' he said quietly.

Tears stung her eyes as she took in the once brisk, stern and bright detective. How had this happened? How on earth had he been reduced to a stammering mess of a man who couldn't even tie his shoelaces? What on earth had happened to the man who spoke boldly and confidently at the speed of light, with a vocabulary that would make the best authors jealous?

'How?' she asked weakly.

He laughed then, a harsh humourless laugh that made her break on the inside.

'Let's just say that abstaining from human company for almost a year and having nothing to do except disassemble a huge criminal network, with no resources except a stable internet connection and then being imprisoned and tortured by the same criminal network does very little for a man's mental health.'

It was then that the tears finally flowed down his pale face and before she knew it, he was sobbing into her arms just like that fateful night when he had jumped off the rooftop. Honestly, she should have known that this would happen. How was she foolish enough to imagine that jumping from a rooftop, bidding farewell to one's own identity, being dead for everyone who he cared about wouldn't affect him just becasue he claimed that he didn't do sentiment?

She rubbed soothing circles on his back and led him to the bed where he finally sat down, staring at his hands, which lay in his lap.

'How's J-John?' he finally asked, once he had calmed down enough to speak clearly.

For a moment, she was lost for words. Would the news of John's upcoming marriage break him further? For, if there was one thing she was certain of , it was that Sherlock had managed to bring down the huge web of criminals only because he had his old life with John to look forward to, when he finally returned to Baker street. How would he react to the fact that John wasn't going to be his roommate anymore?

Deciding that the bare truth was better than sugar coated lies, she decided to drop the bomb.

'John's fine. He's getting married' she said slowly.

When he said nothing, she feared that she had shattered his only remaining hope of resuming his existence at 221B with John by his side. But when he spoke, she felt her heart break all over again.

'Good, good. T-that's good. He's moving on. He doens't know anything after all. He won't be living at 221B when I- if I return to London. He doesn't need me now' he muttered, more to himself than to her but she had heard.

There were so many things that he needed to know, the most important being that Jim was alive, followed by the fact that Sebastian Moran was still determined to get to Jim. About her feelings towards Jim, she wasn't sure if he needed to know. She would never be able to tell him anyway.

'Would you like to go for a walk?' There's so much to talk about, so much we need to share' she asked meekly, relieved when he didn't protest but merely nodded and put on his shoes, which she noted miserably, were slip ons. No laces.

**A/n : Poor Sherlock :'( But then I didn't want him to end up under Molly's care without a valid reason. There has to be something to bring them closer right?**

**So review maybe? :)**

**Love you all**

**Aditi xoxoxo**


	12. Faint

**Author's note : I'm back! My exams are finally done! So I'm going to be on a writing spree :D Anyway, this chapter is kind of sad too. Sherlock finding out about Molly and Jim wasn't really something I enjoyed writing, but Oh well. The story must go on.**

**Please read and review! They're the strongest stimulus for the next chapters! Also, many thanks to the people who have read and reviewed Dreaming with a broken heart. I don't know what I was thinking when I wrote it. It made sense back then, I suppose.**

**Disclaimer : Not mine.**

**Listen to : Darkening Sky by Peter Bradley Adams.**

**_I can't feel_**

**_The way I did before_**

**_Don't turn your back on me_**

**_I won't be ignored_**

As they strolled in the garden, she gently took his trembling hand. He said nothing, but gave her a tight lipped smile. She was happy to see that he could at least walk properly, without stumbling even once. True, his gait was not the same as before, when he used to barge into the morgue with John at his heels, but at least it was steady. Neurasthenia could do funny things to people and it was a relief that his was a mild case. Nothing that a bit of therapy wouldn't cure.

Half an hour passed without either of them speaking a single word. Finally, when she could stand the silence no longer, she stopped in her tracks, about to tell him everything about Jim being alive and Sebastian Moran still trying to reach him, when a loud rumble broke the silence.

They both looked up at the darkening sky, only to catch sight of a few raindrops falling before it started pouring. The huge drops pelted her skin as she grabbed his hand and they both ran to the nearest shelter, namely the empty shed that sometimes served as a hangout for interns and residents.

'Well, that was sudden' he said, shrugging and running a hand through his wet ginger curls. She couldn't help but stare at him. The colour looked so strange, so wrong and so very different from his natural ebony hair. How long would it be before he could go back to being Sherlock? How long would Arthur Vernet have to undergo treatment at her hands? How long would it be before John would find out that his best friend had never died for real?

'Molly, you're staring' he said quietly and she looked away at once turning her back to him. Every time he caught someone staring at him, the person's deepest secrets would tumble from his mouth and in no time, the person who made the mistake of resting their eyes on the world's only consulting detective would be running in the opposite direction as fast as their legs would carry them. She had been at the receiving end of his all-seeing gaze too many times, an experience she really didn't want to revisit. Sure enough, he started off with his deductions but she interrupted him.

'Wait. Before you say anything, there are things that I need to tell you. Things that you probably have no idea about, since you left me with no means to contact either you or Mycroft. she said, her back still turned, not wanting to look him in the eye while blurting out the facts tat would probably send him reeling backwards in shock.

'What is it?' he said cautiously.

Her eyes fluttered shut and she took a deep breath before speaking, telling him everything about Jim Moriarty being alive, admitted in the same hospital for more than five months, losing his memories, Sebastian Moran sending him the gun and finally, the abrupt disappearance of the patient, conveniently leaving out details about the concert and what had happened afterwards.

She expected him to yell, to shout, to be shell shocked but instead, he said nothing. Unwillingly, she opened her eyes, expecting him to be stunned into silence, furious with rage or shaking with anger. Anything but the sheepish expression that adorned his features and positively reeked of guilt.

Realisation hit her like a slap across the face.

He knew. He had probably always known.

'You knew?' she whispered, too many emotions swirling within her. Confusion, disbelief, shock, relief and to a certain extent, uninhibited rage.

Her face betrayed nothing though. She was becoming more and more used to hiding her emotions in front of people. Her face was an absolute mask, giving no hint of the turbulence coursing through her veins. All she wanted to know was how and when he came to know and why he had taken such a long time to let her know that her concerns were for naught.

'Yes, I knew. Mycroft told me' he said slowly.

'How?' was all she could manage to choke out before her throat constricted painfully, making it hard for her to breathe.

'Why, the CCTV footage of course! He saw you both at the concert. E-excellent work, by the way. Really clever, the way you lured him out, so that Mycroft would spot him on the camera. T-the disguise made it a bit difficult but then, I suppose it was necessary. M-mycroft has always had the eye for these things, you know. He r-recognised Moriarty easily enough and two of his agents picked him up from here the very next day. I wonder why he never knew about Moran though..' he went on and on but Molly's eyes had lost focus entirely, staring into nothingness.

He thought the entire concert was her way of letting Mycroft know about Jim's whereabouts discreetly, since there was no direct means of communication. He knew nothing about what had happened _after _ the concert. He knew nothing of her feelings for his arch nemesis, because of whom the both of them were here at the moment.

The thought of his reaction, if he found out, scared her so much that she actually stumbled back a few steps, wanting to get away from him, lest he deduce that too. She stood speechless, hoping against hope that he wouldn't stumble upon the information that would shock his now fragile nerves.

All in vain.

One look at his face and she knew that the cogs had started churning as usual, except, it was a pair of light brown eyes that scrutinised her instead of the ice blue ones she was accustomed to.

When he started speaking, her eyes closed again, knowing that there was no escaping now. He went through every little detail, every little thing that she had done since she stepped into Dublin and all she could think of was him, how his mental prowess hadn't been hampered in the slightest by the disease.

When he mentioned that she had had her heart broken once again, this time without his help, she shivered from sheer mortification.

'Who was it, then? A fellow doctor? No. Your mood is still pensive, you still cry over him sometimes, which means that you haven't seen him a long time. Interacting with him on a daily basis would have helped you to come to terms with the end of your relationship much faster, though many others believe otherwise. A patient, then? Really? It has to be someone whom you've been treating for a long time, rather than an out patient. Someone who was admitted under your care, discharged suddenly and without your consent because he was gone before you even knew he was going to leave...'

He stopped speaking suddenly and she knew why. Her eyes had closed the moment he had commented on her heartbreak and she couldn't dare to open them. An uncomfortable silence had settled between them and she finally opened her eyes because she couldn't bear the silence any more.

Her eyelids parted and she saw Sherlock, robbed of words for once. He said nothing, but his face, usually stoic and mask like, betrayed him. His features were streaked with an expression of pure hurt, the sort reserved for a time when the one you trust with your life lets you down, very literal in this case.

Helplessly, she watched as he looked at her face for any hint, anything that would convince him that his deduction wasn't true, was grossly misplaced, but finding only irresolute proof that strengthened his deduction.

'Him?' he finally croaked, and she felt the tears escape her treacherous eyes as she blinked.

At this point, she would have taken a bullet to the heart instead of his haunted expression. His fingers twitched and she half expected him to slap her, but instead, he just whirled around and stormed away into the showers, leaving her all alone.

She sank to the floor as giant sobs overtook her petite frame for the umpteenth time since Jim had left.

_**So, I let go watching you, turn your back**_  
_**Like you always do, face away and pretend that I'm not**_  
_**But I'll be here 'cause you are all that I've got**_

_**I can't feel the way I did before, don't turn your back on me**_  
_**I won't be ignored, time won't heal this damage any more**_  
_**Don't turn your back on me, I won't be ignored**_

**A/n : Hmm. What do I say? Weird things happen when people fall in love at the wrong time.**

**So, Like it ? Hate it?**

**Please let me know!**

**Love you all loads!**

**Aditi xoxoxo**


	13. Unforgivable

**Author's note : What's this? Two chapters in three days? Welcome, writing spree! I'm lovin it, McDonalds style! (though I'm not at all fond of McD, lol). Anyway, here's the next chapter! I got 9 reviews for the previous chapter and I am so happy. I love you guys so much. You're all amazing :)**

**Please read and review! **

**Disclaimer : Not mine.**

**Listen to : All these things I hate by BFMV. I really love the beats and the lyrics and they're sort of perfect for this chapter.**

_**How can I be lost?**_

_**If I've got nowhere to go?**_

_**Searched the seas of gold **_

_**How come it's got so cold?**_

It was only the next afternoon that she dared to step within a twelve feet radius of his room. The application letter, requesting Dr. Drew to let some other doctor take care of the patient in Room no 24 had been sent to his cabin early in the morning. It had taken a whole sleepless night and countless tears on her part to come to the decision, but it was for the best. She had made a horrible mistake and the consequences were hers to bear. But really, how was someone supposed to stop themselves from falling in love?

Till Dr. Drew responded to the letter, she would have to treat her ward. She had considered calling in sick but somehow couldn't do it. It was just a couple of days anyway. After that, she wouldn't have to look at his haunted expression and feel her heart ache because he was Sherlock and this was not where he was supposed to be, not who he was supposed to be.

Her steps faltered as she reached the door of his room and hesitantly raised a hand and knocked gently. No reply. What, so he knew she was on the other side of the door even without looking? She knocked again and finally tried the door when there was no response. It was unlocked. She stepped inside cautiously, prepared for a series of death glares, or at least a slew of painful words.

Instead, her eyes were greeted with the sight of Sherlock, curled up on his side, facing away from her and fast asleep.

Just as quietly as she had entered, she settled into her usual armchair and opened her textbook, allowing the words to engulf her. She was midway through the paragraph explaining the effects of therapeutic drugs on the fine intention tremors when she felt a pair of eyes on her.

Hesitantly, she glanced upwards from her book to see his blue eyes glaring at her. He wasn't wearing his large glasses and looked so much like the Sherlock she knew, except for the purple shadows adorning his lower eyelids.

'What happened to your lenses?' she blurted out.

He rolled his eyes and his face bore the exact expression that was usually reserved for Anderson and sometimes herself and John.

'I was asleep, as you know. The lenses are supposed to be taken off, least they end up rolling to the back of the eyes when a person is in REM sleep. Also, they were inconvenient so I have decided to discard them... What are you doing here?' he snapped suddenly.

'I am your doctor, Sherlock. At least for the time being. I am supposed to be here as per the hospital's rules. But you need not worry. You'll be assigned a different doctor as soon as the HOD gets my letter, requesting the same. You don't need to be bothered with me any more' she broke off, suddenly unable to look at him , and instead stared at her own hands.

A look of genuine concern crossed his face before he morphed it into a sneer when their eyes met.

'First of all, you are not my doctor. John is. He'll always be my doctor, and not you. So don't delude yourself into thinking otherwise. You are just my pathologist and the person I owe my life to. I might have considered you a friend even. Knowing how few of those I have, you should consider it a privilege. But now, I wonder who you are. I'm not even sure whose side you are on..' he said in a flat voice and she gasped.

His words were as caustic as usual but the idea that he would think that she was working against him, hurt even more.

'Sherlock, what else do I need to do to make you understand that I have been and will always be on your side? I did everything I could to help you with your cases. I risked my own career to make sure you could perform your endless experiments. I came here only because you asked me to. I have left behind everything, Sherlock, my job, my family, my friends, only for you. Please believe me' she implored, taking his large hands in hers.

He looked at her in disbelief before pulling his own hands away from her grasp.

'You spent five months with Moriarty, right here Molly. Those five short months were enough to make you fall head over heels for him? Have you forgotten what he has done? Not just to me but to you as well? Why d'you think I should even listen to what you have to say, when you're clearly in love with my arch enemy? Why the hell should I believe you?' he all but roared at her.

She flinched involuntarily as the tears began to prick her eyes once again.

'He remembered nothing. He wasn't the man because of whom I'm here. The body was the same but the mind was nothing like that of Jim, consulting criminal, the psycopath..' she said but he cut her off abruptly.

'His name is MORIARTY! He isn't Jim from IT any more!' he yelled at her and she found herself yelling back.

'He isn't the consulting criminal either!'

'How would you know? You're practically blind! You couldn't even recognise that he was gay even when the evidence was staring at you in the face. You would never know if he was lying or not! Thank your stars that Mycroft's agents arrived when they did or else he would have killed you and I would find my hands stained with your blood!' he exclaimed angrily.

His words were like lashes of his riding crop but she kept a facade, knowing that she would crumple into a heap if she let even a single tear escape.

'He wouldn't do that' she whispered.

'Why not?' he said disdainfully.

She said nothing, but gathered her things walking towards the door, pausing only to shove Jim's parting note at Sherlock.

'Sentiment. I don't expect you to understand, Sherlock. You may believe that I'm working against you but that's not true. It will never be that way and one day, I'll prove it to you. Prove that I have always worked only and only for you. I believe in you, Sherlock Holmes and nothing can change that, so don't delude yourself into believing otherwise' she said, before stepping away from his room and into the never ending corridors of the psychiatric ward.

_**How can I be lost?**_

_**In remembrance I relive**_

_**And how can I blame you**_

_**When it's me I can't forgive.**_

_**A/N : It's two in the morning and I'm very very sleepy.**_

_**Good night.**_

_**Love you all**_

_**Please review, even if you think it's horrible.**_

_**Lots of love**_

_**Aditi xoxoxo**_

_**PS - I'm appalled looking at the errors I made while typing last night! I was half asleep. I'm so sorry! They've been corrected. Please forgive me and have a nice day.**_


	14. The storm after the calm

**A/n : Hi everyone! Chapter 14 for you :) I have been unable to update since a long long time because it has been raining cats and dogs in Bombay and we haven't had electricity for a long long time. **

**Anyway, here's the chapter. Please read and review :)**

**Disclaimer : Nothing is mine.**

**Listen to : Decode by Paramore.**

The next morning brought with it a heavy downpour. Clutching her umbrella tightly, she ran to the hospital, her clothes already half wet. A hot cup of coffee followed and she sat in her cabin, for no out patients had shown up, thanks to the never ending rain. Sighing, she decided to get on with the paperwork, since there was nothing else to do.

As she picked up the numerous files on her desk, a letter fell out. The envelope had the logo of the hospital on it and hence could mean only one thing. The HOD had replied to her request after all.

With trembling hands, she unfolded the letter, only to drop it in shock moments later. Not only had her request been rejected, but also, the reason mentioned was completely unbelievable. It said that the patient himself had specially demanded treatment only from her and had refused to let any other doctor to even take a look at him.

How was that even possible? After all that had happened yesterday, how could he still want her to be the one to treat him? Why then, had he lectured her about John being his doctor and not her? She had thought he had made himself very clear about the fact that he did not want to see her any more. Why was he calling her back, then?

It was unbelievable and hence she found herself storming towards Room no. 24 and wrenching the door apart only to be greeted with the sight of him trying to button his shirt, and failing miserably.

Her annoyance melted into nothingness and she barely registered her feet moving in his direction and her hands covering his with her own. Before he could object, she buttoned his shirt, smoothing the fabric to ease the wrinkles. She realized what she was doing a second later and jumped back in shock, her eyes seeking his nervously.

His own face betrayed none of his emotions and he turned away without a word, his hand running through his hair just like the day before.

'Why do you want me here?' she asked quietly, not sure if his answer would shatter her heart once again or bring her one step closer to forgiveness.

Of course, she had been an absolute imbecile to get her hopes up as always and his response had to shatter them to a thousand pieces, as always.

'It is safer for me. M-Mycroft agrees. The contact lenses are cumbersome and there is always a chance that someone would r-recognize me, in spite of the disguise. You came to know almost instantly, after all. Anyway, it is only a matter of a few days. I will be out of here as soon as p-possible. It isn't safe to go back to L-London right away, or else I wouldn't even be here because there is no reason to. There is still one member left to track down and he-'

'Sebastian Moran' she breathed. His words hurt as usual but she supposed he was right. There really was no reason for him to be here. After all, his brother, with all his resources could ensure that he had help from the best psychiatrist in the whole of Great Britain. She was nobody after all. Even before the fiasco with Jim had happened, she was insignificant as she would always be. His words were the irresolute proof of that.

To an onlooker it would seem like he was eyeing a spot above her shoulder intently but she knew that he had dived headlong into his mind palace. Knowing that he was unlikely to emerge any time soon, she sat down into the armchair with a sigh only to be pulled up again by him.

'If what you say is true, then he must have visited the hospital at least once. He has to be on the CCTV footage. He is not the person to trust an accomplice with stuff as important as delivering the package to Moriarty. Two months have passed since New Year's Eve and he still hasn't done else, which means that he knows that the object of his interest is no longer here. Which would definitely..'

At this point his mutterings became so faint that they were inaudible to her. Nevertheless, she waited for him to speak, trying hard not to let the earlier feelings of hurt and disappointment seep back into her mind.

His muttering stopped suddenly and one look at his face made her blood freeze in fear. She had never seen him genuinely afraid before, for he had always guarded his facial expressions so carefully. But looking at his terrified expression, she wanted nothing more than to put his fears to rest, no matter what it cost her. The words that rushed out of his mouth only multiplied her fears.

'He knows I am here' he said quietly, with a tone of finality.

There was nothing to be done on her part, especially since he had all but pushed her out of the room almost immediately, ignoring her protests and the offer to help him tract down the last hindrance to his passage to London, saying that he needed to think.

Nothing was heard or seen of Sebastian Moran in the following two weeks and life went on for both of them. The schedule followed was unerringly similar to the one she had with her previous patient. The walks across the hospital grounds were silent because more often than not, he would spend them in his mind palace, ignoring her altogether.

There was one thing that made her immensely happy though. In the commotion of expecting Moran to show up any moment, the neurasthenia had almost left him and his hands were now rock steady and his speech was slowly reverting back to its original brisk style.

It was on a somnolent Friday that she received the shock of her life when she entered his room in the afternoon as usual, only to find it empty with a crumpled note lying on his bed, in his own handwriting. Dread flooded every blood vessel as she read the single word scribbled on the tiny paper in capital letters.

HELP.

It could only mean one thing. Moran had finally struck.

**A/n : Cliffhanger! **

**Anyway, how was it?**

**Let me know in a review!**

**Lots of Love **

**Aditi xoxoxo**


	15. All done

**A/n : Hi. Before you all kill me, i want to apologise. I am so sorry I haven't updated in ages. Thing is, i just didn't know what to do next. Every idea seemed more far fetched than the other and I was at my wits end. Anyway, this is what I managed to put together. **

**Please read and review. I am kind of hoping to cross the 100 review mark so help me, will you? Pretty please?**

**Disclaimer : Not mine.**

**Listen to : 15 step by Radiohead.**

Panic rose inside her like a many headed monster, devouring her insides and making her feel sick. The note was clutched tightly in her hand and her mind was reeling from shock. Moran had him. She had not the slightest idea about his whereabouts. She didn't have Mycroft's number. In fact, for the moment, there was pretty much nothing she could do.

After quite a few minutes of mindless panicking, her phone rang. Her heart jumped into her mouth as she brought the phone to her ear with trembling hands. It was an unknown number but she knew exactly who was calling.

'Hello?' she whispered.

Beads of perspiration had already started to appear on her forehead and her heart was thumping against her ribs so hard that it hurt.

'Molly Hooper' said the voice at the other end.

'Y-yes?' she stammered.

'Come find him. Let's end this once and for all, shall we?' said Moran snidely before hanging up.

She stared blankly at the wall not knowing what to do. He could be anywhere. He had Sherlock. And she had no clue where to go.

Her text alert went off just then. It was a picture message from the same number.

It was a picture of her favourite band, Bullet for my valentine.

She stood up so quickly that the mobile phone clattered to the floor.

In one fluid motion, she stripped off her lab coat and ran to the street to catch a cab to Sullivan Hall.

She reached her destination in a mere ten minutes and threw some change at the cabbie before rushing into the unlit hall.

* * *

A solitary yellow lamp glowed, nowhere enough to provide light but instead throwing sinister shadows on the the dark wallpaper. At first sight, she thought she was alone and dread filled her as she thought she had come to the wrong place but then the floodlights turned on suddenly and she held up a hand against the blinding white light. What on earth was happening?

'Sherlock?' she called out once but there was no response.

Instead the lights went off again. The tiny yellow bulb was the only light source and since her pupils had constricted thanks to the bright light, she could see almost nothing.

'Sherlock?' she called out again, her voice trembling.

'Patience, Miss Hooper. He'll be here soon' said a voice from behind her and she yelped in surprise, turning around so fast that her hair whipped out and hit her face.

'What d'you mean? He's with you isn't he?' she said hoarsely.

The man, Sebastian Moran, smiled so that his teeth were visible through his thick moustache. Unlike the Westwood suits that Moriarty used to wear, he was dressed more casually in khakis and an untucked button down.

His stance and manner literally screamed 'ex military' and she could see the silhouette of a revolver in his pocket.

'Where is Sherlock?' she shouted at him. Rage was setting in now, and she could feel the frustration of the whole messed up situation with Sherlock and Jim leaked out of her after months of suppressing it.

'Didn't I tell you he would be here soon? Come on now. Surely you don't think me clever enough to kidnap the great Sherlock Holmes? I have no shame admitting it. I am more brawn than brain. Jim was the thinker, not me. Speaking of which' his eyes suddenly shone with a maniacal glint ' what have you done to him and where is he? You did have a good time with him, didn't you?'

He seized her by her arms and she winced at the strength of the iron grip that would surely leave bruises on her skin.

'It was simple, really, getting you two here. Tell one that the other has been kidnapped and they'll come running to save each other. How pathetic ' he spat in disgust but Molly wasn't listening.

What the hell had she done? She had walked into a trap without even pausing to think! She should have checked to see if Sherlock was really with Moran or not!

'Tell me, Miss Hooper, how is it that you managed to distract Jim so much that he sometimes forgot about his work? Why is it that he asked me to spare your life when I had snipers assigned to shoot Dr Watson, DI Lestrade and Mrs Hudson? And don't give me the crap about being insignificant to Mr. Detective. he would have never come all the way to Dublin if that was true' he muttered angrily, shaking her with every sentence.

'Tell me, Molly, what is it that both of them see in you? Why is it that Jim became Rich just for you and why is it that Sherlock is going to come here to save you any minute now? What is so special about you? The longer you talk' he said pushing her into a chair before adding softly, 'the longer your Sherlock stays alive'.

At that moment she didn't care that the man standing in front of her was at least twice her size and at least a foot taller. She didn't care that he had a revolver in his pocket. She didn't care about anything except for how Sebastian Moran had singlehandedly managed to mess up her life so badly.

All she wanted to do was to run at Moran and punch the hell out of him, hurt him till he bled, not caring how much she got hurt in return. He must have sensed what was going on because he held up his hands in front of him in mock surrender.

'Now, now, Molly. Don't be as impulsive as always. You know you really don't stand a chance against me. One snap and I'd break your neck. Where's the fun in that? Let's wait for our detective, shall we?'

Her breathing was laboured and her hands were itching to wind around his neck and choke him to death. Impulsive as always, she thought bitterly, not caring in the least about how much stronger he was than her.

'Do it then!' she spat at him 'Kill me! Do it right now! Why do you want to wait for Sherlock? Do you really believe he will turn up, just to save me? That is rubbish. I mean nothing to him. I never have and I never will! I am only a tool for him, a way to get body parts, to get his cultures analysed and later to fake his death! As for Jim, you know he only used me to get to Sherlock. I never meant anything to either of them. Especially Sherlock' her voice broke and a few tears leaked out of her eyes. Admitting it in front of him made it ten times worse. These were things that she knew were true but to voice them aloud, it was like shredding every hope of hers to pieces.

She took a deep breath and continued.

'That is your answer, Sebastian Moran. There is nothing special about me. They both see nothing in me. I mean nothing to Sherlock. The only person i did care about is now somewhere far beyond my reach because of you. We both know that he is not Jim Moriarty. Richard Brook is a totally different person and it is not possible to turn him into Jim again. One person I care about and then he is taken away from me without even a warning and Sherlock, for whom I did everything, I risked my career, moved to Dublin loathes me because I got involved with a man who was once his arch enemy...If this is what I'm going to get after saving his life, I don't want it! I don't give a damn about any of this now!' she yelled and then stopped suddenly as another dark shadow loomed into the eerie yellow light and a gun shot rang out.

She closed her eyes in fear at the sound and when she opened them, she saw Sebastian Moran face down on the floor with his head in a pool of blood.

The next thing she knew, she was pulled up by a pair of strong arms. The relief that it was all over was too overwhelming for her and she broke down in his arms, sobbing her heart out. He merely stroked her hair, pulling her closer till his presence calmed her down.

'Come with me to London. It's all over now' he murmured into her hair.

Her breath caught and she pulled away, a fire blazing in her eyes.

'No. I am not coming back with you to London' she said determinedly.

**A/n : It's done! The depressing part is over now! Sigh, I didn't know how to write this, that's why it took me so long.**

**Review, maybe?**

**Aditi xoxoxo**


	16. Staying put

**A/n : 100 reviews! Yay! Here's the next chapter, as promised! I hope you guys like it!**

**Listen to : Uncertainty by The Fray.**

**Disclaimer : Not mine. **

She woke up to a flash of the brightest blue. Confused, she rubbed the sleep out of her eyes and stared around in room was empty and she was quite alone. Her alarm would ring in a few minutes anyway, so she decided to forego those last moments of sleep and stepped into the bathroom, yawning.

She emerged fifteen minutes later, with a towel around her petite frame and nearly yelled at the sight that beheld her.

There was Sherlock, seated in her armchair, in her very room, completely at ease, like he was at 221B itself.

'What are you doing here?' she squealed, trying to wrap the towel more securely around her.

'Come back with me to London' he said tonelessly, not even lifting his gaze to meet hers, for which she was thankful at the moment.

She sighed sadly. He would never understand, would he?

'My decision was made long ago, Sherlock. There was a time when I wanted to leave this damned place and never step out of London. But now, things are different' she said softly, feeling sorry for the detective in front of her.

Looking at his broken condition always made her anger ebb away like a receding tide but this time she was determined not to let her resolve waver.

He stood up suddenly and before she could move away, his hands had cupped her face, his blue eyes staring into her very soul. She knew immediately that this was what had woken her up in the morning. Had he watched her sleep and waited for her to wake up, then?

'What changed?' he whispered, his breath dancing on her face and suddenly, she was reminded of another night, the night before the fall, when they had been all alone in the morgue and he had confessed to needing her. They had almost kissed back then, his lips ghosting over hers before settling at the corner of her mouth.

Her eyes almost closed, waiting for him to lean in but it never happened. Her eyes opened in reluctance and she saw the dark brown eyes of Jim Moriarty staring back at her.

With a yell, she jumped back, her hand over her heart which was thumping away so loudly that she could barely hear anything else.

'Molly?' asked Sherlock concernedly as she stepped away from him, gasping.

How on earth had that happened? Was it just something that her mind had conjured, to remind her that she loved Jim? Was it Sherlock's closeness that had triggered it?

'Molly, what's wrong?' he questioned, holding out his arms in worry and she felt herself break. The disappearance of Jim, the return of Sherlock, the killing of Moran, all came to her in a rush and she had to suppress the urge to vomit.

'Everything changed' she sobbed,'Everything has changed so suddenly, Sherlock, I don't know what to do. Moran's gone and I should be relieved but I'm not and you're here and I can't come back to London, Sherlock. Please don't make me. I can't' she cried, before collapsing on the bed, with her head in her hands.

'If it is me being mad about you having feelings for Moriarty you are worried about, then it's alright. I forgive you. It was probably the loneliness that made you think that you were emotionally inclined towards him and he responded without knowing how to, and you ended up thinking that he reciprocated your feelings. Anyway, since he is now safely out of the picture, can we please go back to London? I need you there, and it has been a long time since my supposed exile and I need to be back at Baker street and you at St. Bart's so can we go back as soon as we can? I forgive you, Molly. You need not worry about me treating you any differently because of what you have done' he concluded and she felt the fury inside her rise again like a many headed monster.

Was there no end to how insensitive he could be? Did he really think that it was loneliness that pushed her into Moriarty's arms? Did he honestly belive that after everything that had happened, she would still be willing to go back to London and be his doormat?

His stunned expression told her that she had wondered out aloud.

So she continued, determined to get it all out in one go.

'You forgive me? _You _forgive me? And what have I done to earn this forgiveness? I always knew that you were a sociopath who had distanced himself fro emotions but today, Sherlock, you have proved to me that you're nothing but a heartless bastard!

After all that has happened, the least you can do is leave me alone! I don't want to go to Bart's again. I don't want to be a pathologist again. I don't want to be at your beck and call again. I don't even want to be Molly Hooper again.

Most importantly, I don't want to fall in love with you again, knowing that you would never feel the same. I have had enough heartbreaks for a lifetime, Sherlock. So please, don't ask me to come to London with you' she said, tears streaming down her face.

If he had looked stunned earlier, it was nothing compared to the expression on his face right now. Guilt, hurt, remorse, she could see it all. But it wasn't going to change her decision. She was certain about that much. Come what may, she would never go back to London of her own free will. Enough was enough.

Perhaps he had seen the steely resolve in her eyes, for, a moment later he spoke, his voice full of determination.

'What you have had to suffer because of me cannot be undone. I am not capable of mending broken hearts, you know that. It's not really my area. I promise you one thing, though. I am not budging from here till I earn your forgiveness. I am not going back to London without you. It may take me years to convince you, but if I ever go back to London, I am not leaving you behind. You have my word, Molly Hooper, and I always keep my promises' he concluded gravely.

**A/n : Now he has to find his way back into her heart! Wonder what will happen then *hint hint, wink wink, nudge nudge***

**Like it? Hate it?**

**Let me know!**

**Aditi xoxoxo**


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